


Lucky Charm

by nogitsune_lichen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Anal Sex, Angst, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Cultural Differences, Fights, Fluff, M/M, Marking, Near Death Experiences, Oral Fixation, Pack Building, Pack Dynamics, Scent Marking, Slow Build, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Hunters, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7305973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nogitsune_lichen/pseuds/nogitsune_lichen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Treat others how you want to be treated," he muttered, looking up to see an impressed look on the elderly woman's face.</p><p>"You're going to do great things Derek, just wait, you've already saved your lucky charm,” Grandmother said, eyes beaming with confidence.</p><p>--</p><p>Or the AU set in the Pleistocene era because why not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, here we go. So I spoke with a few of my friends and some other writers (TheTypeWriterGirl -GO CHECK OUT HER WORK IT'S THE BEST THING SINCE SLICED BREAD) and I just wrote what came to mind. So here it is.

Ten moons ago they had lost their den to the ground shakes, the Earth violently roaring beneath their very feet. Derek remembers the rocks from above showering them from above like ash after a big fire. He can still see the den ceiling fracturing in two, the rock caving in with the walls. It had been him still inside when half of it fell, but he had to get Cora and Grandfather out.

After all he was twelve, he was technically a man now.

A man who saved his younger sister and elder from their ruined den. Although his mother had scolded him heavily for it in front of the pack, the next time they had one on one she had praised him for being such a brave young beta and without him Cora and Grandfather wouldn't be alive. That in of itself had him preening much to Laura's annoyance.

It's been ten moons though, and they are a fairly large pack without territory or a den. His mother has been on edge for the last eight moons, considering they've been traveling north to avoid Satomi's pack lands of the south. With summer almost over the nights would drop and Derek's been told not even their kind can live out in the open for an entire winter.

His bare feet hit the ground in a steady rhythm, toes wiggling against thin underbrush and soft Earth. Dead leaves crinkled beneath the balls of his feet, crunching each time his weight shifted. It rained not long ago so the rich and heady petrichor smell still lingered heavily in the area making him take in deeper breaths to savor the flavor of it. In the distance, maybe a mile or two out he could hear the sounds of deer trotting through the wild and birds from above twittering in glee.

The woods were his home and he loved everything it brought with it.

Accept the hunters, he did not love those. They were a nasty species trained to kill packs just like his. Grandmother told him once she came face to face with a hunter, it's black inked skin a symbol for how many wolves they've killed. She killed the young huntress with ease, yet wrapped her in winter leathers and braided wild flowers and clove into the twine holding the leathers down. It was a day's hike but Grandmother set the huntress back at her human camp when the moon was at it's peek before running back to the den.

She always says though the hunters are a cruel and vile people, they are people and they deserve to be treated how you want to be treated. This is what Derek admired most about Grandmother, her ability to love those who may not even deserve it. Grandfather was a very lucky man in his opinion.

The sun was almost at it's highest when they stumbled upon a clearing, a plain barren grassland with a small creek flowing through it to the south. In the far distance was a mountain, it's ridge hanging of a rather steep cliff. They've gone east from their last den, the tip of the sea meets right here by the cliff. Back at the old den the sea was a two day hike away and they needed to ask permission from Satomi each time to pass through.

"We rest here today, looks like good hunting ground. We can restock and take a while to get our bearings," his mother announced, taking off her leather pouches.

Derek took her lead and took off his own, but grabbed his water pouch and made way for the creek just up ahead to refill it to soothe his dry throat.

He kneeled down by the water, his toes curling into the clay like silt beneath him, allowing his fingers to dip in and test the water. It was cold, obviously a run off from what must be a mountain upstream. Soft and tender reeds were sprouting everywhere, lily pads dotting the water tastefully, and young fish were busy swimming beneath the crystal-like surface. Without hesitation he dunked his water sack into the creek, watching it bubble as it filled up. A smile crossed his face as he brought it to his mouth, taking in a few good sips before filling it back up and saving it for later.

"Thirsty?"

Derek glanced back to see Laura and another older pack mate, Erica, walk over behind him with their own water pouches in hand.

"Well yeah, we just hiked fifteen miles," Derek said matter-of-factly, standing up with his arms crossed. Laura rolled her eyes and moved past him to get water, Erica giggled under her breath and followed her friend's actions.

"No need to get all closed off little brother, just making conversation-"

That's when the scream came from further west, by the mountain at the edge of the plains. Derek picked up on it instantly; his gut twisted with it as if a blade had jabbed him and the other person holding it was just spinning it like crazy. Laura and Erica paused what they were doing to listen in. It was very faint and it was mostly covered by the soft breeze and various ambient noises. Still it was a scream and one that sounded terrified and high pitched, maybe it was a young wolf?

But wolves howl.

So a young hunter? What if they were hurt? Just like Grandmother said, _ treat others how you want to be treated _ .

"Come on, let's go check it out," he said, already stepping through the creek to get to the other side. He looked back when he didn't hear footsteps. Erica was closer than further but Laura was holding her arm so it was impossible for her to move.

Laura flashed her eyes as if debating even going, "…fine but you've already been the hero saving Cora and Grandfather. Let me lead. Besides I'm older I should be first in case something happens."

Derek huffed but waited until his older sister was in front before they started the short trek towards the mountain, and their pack seemed to be oblivious to the matter or figured they were just curious children. The closer they got to the mountain the closer the screams got until they were able to differentiate between sobs and yelps.

"What if it's a hunter?" Erica asked under her breath.

Derek shook his head, "the screams are too high, hunters are older like Peter and Boyd." Through his words he could tell Erica didn't seem much happier with is answer. He frowned and linked their hands together, a silent squeeze was all it took for her to visibly calm down and relax, her brown eyes losing most of the tension.

Laura looked back at them, signaling them to be quiet.

They were pretty high on the mountain now, the plain visible through a few trees and several feet below a drop off. Barely he could make out the shadowed figures at the base of the plain, the pack. Thick underbrush and vines surrounded the wood around them, unlike their old west den that had thin Birch trees and grassy meadows. Somehow this felt more safe even if visibility was hard to accomplish.

Derek let go of Erica when the three of them found a large rock that started a large level clearing, a cave's mouth wide enough to expose a nice wide space inside which resembled their old den. The three of them peaked over the rock to see a lethal mountain lion pacing a much narrower opening of the cave. A person sized cubby almost, but it was where the screaming and crying was coming from.

The lion paced more to the left, exposing the cubby and the small child within it. Derek went wide eyed at the sight of the bloodied little boy. Face pale and big eyes bursting with tears. His little hands clutching his thigh where blood was gushing out alarmingly.

"Come on," Laura hissed pulling him and Erica away.

"Wait-what do you mean come on? We have to help!" Derek snapped, pulling away from his sister.

Laura growled low enough for the lion not to pick up on it, "we're too young to take on a lion that big! Plus it's a human Derek, just let it die and let's go back to the pack."

Erica nodded, "I want to go back too. Come on Derek let's just go."

He flashed his eyes, claws and fangs extending into their lethal states, "fine. You two leave but I'm helping. It's just a kid, we need to help him." Laura was about to talk back but the raise of her eyebrows signaled she was over the bickering. She muttered something he couldn't understand before grabbing Erica's hand and making a run for it down the mountain. Derek took a deep breath, watching the two leave him all alone with the lion and the human kid.

Returning to his rock he growled when he saw the lion pawing at the opening, the boy's wails getting even louder. Derek channeled the moon's light through him, praying he could help the kid or at least drive away the lion for a while.

_ Alpha. Beta. Omega. Alpha. Beta. Omega. _

With a deep roar he jumped from behind the rock, landing on his hands and knees watching the lion startle in surprise at first. It let out a hiss, sauntering over to him before lunging _.  _ " _ Use your momentum to your advantage, Son. You're stronger that way, _ " his father's voice told him. Derek ducked under it's paws and used his hands to shove the lion at the rock, watching it collide with an angered whimper. It got right back up and eyed him with livid pupils. Derek breathed heavily as he roared again, stepping closer so his actual spit was flying into the animal's face.

A second and a miracle later the lion whimpered and fled, rushing into the wild bush and out of sight. Derek let out a sigh feeling incredibly drained from the fight, it probably was the fifteen miles that made this fight so exhausting. However the even more exhausted crying from behind him was enough to have him snap out of it. Turning on his heel he saw the kid still in the cubby but looking at him with fearful eyes.

"Hey," Derek said softly, reaching a hand out, "it's okay. You're okay now, the lion is gone."

The kid flinched back from his hand, crying harder, "no! No st-stay away! Wolves are ba'd!"

It hurt, but what else would the kid know? Father said hunters raise hunters, so of course the child would know to fear him. That didn't make sense though because Derek just went face to face with a scary mountain lion for him. His eyes flickered down the kid's pale mole covered body to see large tears in the kid's thigh from what must have been the lion's claws. They ran from his hip to just above his knee, angry and bloody. Derek was pretty sure he could see a bit of bone from under the mangled skin, fat, and muscle.

"I can help you with that," he said pointing to the kid's leg, "I don't think you'll live if you don't let me help. My pack…we have an emissary who can heal you."

The kid hiccuped and sobbed again and used a blood stained hand to wipe the tears off his cheeks. It took a minute of the silence of nature and crying until the kid came to his senses and nodded. "Please don't 'urt me," the boy whimpered.

Derek shook his head, "I won't. Let me help you, you can't walk right now."

"Stiles."

"Huh?" He paused mid-stride, eyeing the boy in confusion.

"My n-name, it's Stiles," the boy - _ Stiles _ \- explained, looking at Derek like he was the biggest idiot on the Earth. The name itself was odd but it really did fit the boy, and Stiles was probably some odd hunter name because he's never heard of it.

"I'm Derek," he introduce himself before finally reaching the cubby opening. It was barely big enough for Stiles let alone him. He reached out, urging Stiles to lean over so Derek could pull him out. Those big puffy brown eyes drooped, head lulling back in what he thinks Deaton calls blood loss because there was too much blood. "Hey, no Stiles…no wake up come on," he urged, painfully shoving himself in the cubby to grab the little boy's shoulder and pull him close.

He smelled like fresh rain, sprouting leaves, sea salt, and lemon grass…well that and blood but Derek really liked that smell more than he thought he would. This close he could see thick eyelashes and very pink lips, but the leg on the kid was overwhelming. It looked like the one time Father, Peter, Boyd, and a few others brought back a whole herd of deer from hunting and they had to claw the meat to get it off. Accept this was a human leg and the human who owned it looked close to death.

Pulling him out of the cave Derek laid him on the grass before running to cut a long piece of vine with his claws, and in an instant he was back at Stiles's side. Deaton would always tie cord around their bloody wounds to stop the blood from going there, so that was step one.

"Okay, you're gonna be okay," Derek said while tying it tight around Stiles's very upper thigh. Stiles cried a little, chest rising and falling shakily. He needed to work quickly, he knew Deaton mashes up a type of root between his teeth and sticks it in these wounds to keep them clean but he has no idea what--

"Derek Hale!"

His head whipped up to see his pack rushing into the clearing, his mother's bright red eyes glaring at him. Everyone was here now, some more interested in the cave than the fact he fought off a mountain lion, saved a human, and at least attempted to heal him.

"Mother! Wait, just help him first! A lion clawed his leg and he needs Deaton to help him!" Derek begged, baring his neck in submission when she neared. He could feel her anger, her growl a manifestation of her emotions.

His father grabbed the back of his neck, "we will not help him Son. He's a simple human child and when his family comes looking for him they'll hunt us. We need to leave him."

Derek felt defeated, shoulders shaking in shock while looking back to Stiles who was wheezing now, eyes wide at the mention of dying. It made a new wave of fresh tears come through him mouth opening in a sob.

"I dun wanna die!" Stiles screamed into his hands, body getting paler and paler with each second. Derek was opening his mouth, the need to defy his parents - _ his Alpha _ \- was strong, he needed to save Stiles. However Grandmother was walking over with a grim look, sitting beside Stiles, pulling him so he was in her arms. The pulling on his leg must've been so painful because the boy vomited in pain, screaming even worse than before.

"Talia. Robert. I don't remember you two being so cruel, this is a child here. Deaton can help him…if he makes it he makes it, but at least if he doesn't we know we tried," Grandmother said softly, her heat behind it present.

Mother flinched back, Grandmother used to be the Alpha and Mother still listened to her command even if she was the Alpha now. Derek ripped himself away from Father's grip on his neck, rushing to sit with Grandmother and Stiles. Deaton made himself known as he set down his many medicine bags and got to work. There was talking in the distance and suddenly the whole pack was inside the cave, checking it out and setting things down.

"You saved a lucky charm, Derek," Grandmother said with a smile on her face.

Derek looked at her confused, "what?"

"This boy, he was here yes?"

"Yes," Derek nodded.

"You saved him from the lion, he lead you to this cave. I know your mother Derek, she likes it here, this is going to be our den. This boy lead us here when we needed it most. Besides Emma is going to give birth soon, we needed a den. You and him saved our pack," Grandmother explained and Derek flushed deeply, gripping Stiles's hand as Deaton shoved the root into the claw marks.

The hard part was when Deaton needed to use fine silk and a thin sharp piece of wood to sew the wounds shut. When it happened, Stiles cried out and it had both hi and Grandmother drawing out his pain until he passed out, chest rising and falling with ease.

"Treat others how you want to be treated," he muttered, looking up to see an impressed look on the elderly woman's face.

"You're going to do great things Derek, just wait, you've already saved your lucky charm,” Grandmother said, eyes beaming with confidence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A punishment ceremony between one's Alpha and one who threatens the pack. The last time this happened he was only four sun cycles and he can still see Jennifer's head rolling away from her body.
> 
> Gods help him.

" _I don't understand._ "

" _Robert, this is…this is a perfect home but the human was here. If we stay this could end horribly._ "

" _The human looked as thin as a twig Talia and your mother seems to trust both him and Derek._ "

" _I don't trust Derek, at least not right now. He willingly went to help a human. That boy's attitude will get him killed!_ "

" _Our boy's attitude lead us to a new home..._ "

Derek was curled in on himself beside a fire, hugging his knees to his chest and letting his chin rest on the shelf it created. He stopped listening to his Alpha and Father's conversation from deeper within the cave, his chest aching at the distrust that had formed between him and his mother.

His stomach was in knots and though he wouldn't he felt like vomiting up dinner.

Around him many of the pack members had already set up their own fires, every family had one. His parents shared theirs with Cora who was still underage. Laura shared hers with Grandmother and Grandfather who took her in because no boy in the pack - _other than him and Boyd. but Boyd already shared a fire with Erica_ \- was old enough to settle her yet. It went on as well; Peter and his mate, their son Jackson. Emma and Kieran, their fire about to have an infant at it. Various other pack members.

The only pack member to have a campfire without a mate was Deaton because he took a vow, and by those terms he focused his life on healing and helping the pack. That meant he was too busy to hunt animals and whatnot for a mate, so he was the only acceptation.

Derek turned twelve this sun cycle which meant when they got to their new den he was supposed to mate with his pack mate Tracy.

Accept now he had Stiles, Tracy even said herself she didn't want to mate with someone who liked humans. Nobody but Grandmother has spoken a word to him since they settled in the cave a few hours ago. She told him that Stiles was his responsibility now, and he took the only spot at his fire until he turned seventeen which was the age for producing offspring anyways. Derek frowned, he wanted to help Stiles but he was supposed to be mated and be a good wolf in the pack. Not the outcast who nobody will talk to.

So he opted to make a fire and settle in for tomorrow's horrible day.

His eyes flickered over the orange flames that licked at the chilled night air, it's warmth casting a nice glow on his space. With some strong logs from outside and woven ivy he strung up his leather to make a sort of barrier. While wolves were pack animals the fires were private for family units within the pack, privacy was important at times.

Like the time Peter and Corrine lost their first child, a little girl who wasn't strong enough to make it past the first week. She hadn't taken well to breast feeding and died of starvation. The two kept to their own fire and the barriers gave them the mourning space they needed.

Accept now Derek's sheltered Stiles from the pack.

Stiles was laying on a bed of furs that was usually his, little body shivering in it's sleeping state despite the mammoth fur his Grandfather had given to him on his twelfth cycle being draped over him. His long matted brown hair was splayed everywhere, running down his shoulders as if it hadn't been maintained in a while. Twigs, mud, and blood were caked into it as well. Derek knew the next time Stiles woke up he'd need a cleaning in the river down the mountain, plus he spotted little white things in his hair as well. Probably lice so Deaton would have to cut his hair off anyways.

His pale skin glowed in the fire light, chest rising and falling like a delicate bird nostrils flaring with each breath.  Derek looked over him again and noticed the bow of his little lips, the beauty marks on his skin, and he was realizing humans weren't as scary as the stories said. Sure Stiles was still little but he didn't seem scary at all.

"Hey Derek?"

He flinched, head spinning up to where Cora was standing, holding her handmade doll to her chest. The tears in her eyes made his own heart ache as he stood to look to the mouth of the cave. It was nightfall and he knew how important it was for their parents to give her a bedtime story. However tonight instead of tending to their youngest they were arguing about his punishment.

"Hey Cora, um…you need a story?" Derek asked softly, watching the six cycled child nod with a sniffle, little eyes shining gold. He sighed and nodded, glancing back to Stiles who was still passed out before making his way to his parent's fire. Anyone within the same family could enter another's fire, but if he were to go to Boyd's fire he'd need permission from the fire leader themselves.

Cora curled up on her pile of furs, clutching her doll close as she motioned for him to sit beside her. He did so, his fingers running through her hair which was loose from her daily braids.

She looked up and yawned, "can you tell me the one about the Gods and the moon light?"

Derek smiled comfortingly and nodded, "of course I can."

With that he went off telling the story of how the Gods blessed werewolves with the bond of the moon light, and how when a wolf runs under its full glow they are at their best. By the time the story was ended his parent's fire was almost out, having yet to return; meanwhile, Cora was asleep with a steady heartbeat. Tenderly he leaned down and kissed her forehead before making himself scarce, rushing back to his fire before his parents made it back from their conversation.

Stiles was still asleep by the time he got back to his fire, and he felt pretty dead on his feet after the day. He grabbed the ash powder Deaton makes, sprinkling it on the fire to put it out before curling under the furs beside Stiles. It was odd; his furs smelled like his furs but Stiles's scent was already mixed into it a good amount.

He felt little shame knowing he slept easier with that bit of information still in his head as he shut his eyes for the night.

\---

Derek woke up to a pressure on his chest, compressing his ribs into his lungs. Wide amber eyes were met with his and a forehead was pressed to his own. He growled, flinching up to a sitting position which only resulted in their foreheads knocking together.

"Ow!" The familiar voice yelped…and oh…right, Stiles.

He looked beside him to see the younger boy on his back, rubbing his forehead with a groan. Derek's eyes traveled south to see the lion's marks on his leg already healing nicely thanks to Deaton's remedies. The stitches were still nasty and it probably bled a little overnight, but it wasn't gushing and it wasn't open. Derek would call that a win.

"Sorry, I just didn't expect to wake up with you in my face," he apologized, helping Stiles sit up only to have the kid jerk away from him. Derek raised his hands up, "whoa…just, calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you, if I was going to hurt you I would have done it yesterday. Look I even got someone to help you."

That logic had Stiles nodding and accepting the help, sitting up mostly by himself.

"Thanks," Stiles mumbled, barely noticeable to Derek's own superior hearing.

There were not any words said after that. Every move Derek made had Stiles hyper vigilant and nervous, which in turn had his leg hurting even more with the sudden jerky movements. He tried to remain as calm as possible as he made Stiles breakfast - _which was a collection of wild berries and dried venison meat_ \- and he found the only way to give it to Stiles was to leave it on the floor, leave their fire, and then come back when he was finished eating.

Derek could already tell his " _lucky charm_ " was a handful and a half.

By mid-morning the pack was back to routine; some hunting, some gathering, some tending to the needs of the den. Derek however needed to get Stiles cleaned up before one of the pups got lice or his bed furs were pertinently stinky.

"No."

"Stiles, I need to get you clean. You have to come out from the fire," Derek tried, pinching his nose in frustration. It's been the same answer for five minutes.

"NO!"

Derek let out a growl, feeling ready to rip his own fangs out of his face. "How about this? You come out and do as I say and I'll let you have more of those berries you liked at breakfast. Sound good?" Derek offered, playing this card early. He noticed some of his own stash of them had gone missing when he went out to inform Deaton to meet him at the river when the sun was at it's peak. Thankfully this seemed to get Stiles's full attention, face going hard with thought.

"..okay."

"Really? If I knew you were this easy I would've tried that ages ago," Derek huffed extending a hand for Stiles to take, and though hesitant the human gasped his hand and allowed him to lead. Thankful Derek lead Stiles out of their fire for the first time. The little pack that was still around the den paused what they were doing to look over at the sight.

Even Isaac who was usually in his own little world stopped what he was doing to look over, which surprised Derek the most. Stiles froze under his touch, looking pale and terrified of the wolves in front of them. Derek cursed for choosing a back part of the cave - _then again them mouth had the most draft, Stiles would've been cold_ \- to settle his fire.

"Come on," he muttered, giving Stiles a sure nod before pulling him past people and out of the cave.

The sun was delicious on his skin, nice hot waves hitting him with a cool breeze which made it tolerable. Much of the pack was out here, picking the nearby lands for items they needed, the children frolicking in the open area. The youngest ones were shifted into their full forms while the older children where half shifted.

"Ah! No-no-no!" Stiles screamed, suctioning himself to the back of Derek, hiding behind him. Yet another scene for the pack to judge him with, this wasn't off to a great start. He turned around and got on one knee to be level with Stiles and so they were eye to eye.

"Hey, Stiles they're fine. They aren't gonna hurt you," Derek informed.

Stiles shook his head, eyes watery, "no Derek! They look scary!"

Derek could feel the looks burning into the back of their head, judgement thick in the air. He held onto Stiles's shoulders so he wouldn't move much. "Hey, that's how they are Stiles. It's not nice to call them scary, they're just playing," Derek corrected.

"But they have big fangs and claws! They can't play!" Stiles said, still being stubborn.

There was a growl from behind Stiles which had him sobbing into Derek's chest, holding him like a lifeline. Derek stood, holding Stiles tight while watching Peter come closer until he was inches away from them, blue eyes searing into Derek's.

"Derek, take your damn human and go to where ever you need to but get him away from here if he's going to insult us so blatantly!" His uncle sneered, features more wolf-like at the moment. Taking action he lifted Stiles into his arms, turning on his heel and made a beeline to the river at the base of the mountain and far away from the pack. The human in his arms was crying like crazy, mumbling something he couldn't understand while getting tears, spit, and snot all over Derek's skin.

He needed a cleaning himself anyways.

Deaton was sitting on a rock, eyes shut in a state of calmness. Something emissaries do, like a meditation of some sort. Derek always thought it was kind of cool how calm Deaton could be even in tense situations.

"Your late Derek," Deaton said without opening his eyes.

He set down Stiles in the water, shallow enough to avoid his thighs getting wet, "I know. Pack stuff, Peter, can we just start this please before he passes out from fear or something."

The emissary opened his eyes and slipped into the water himself, giving Stiles a once over before checking his thigh for anything out of place. The man was giving Stiles calm words like his name, how he works for the pack, how he was brave when he was being sewn up last night. Much to Derek's shock Stiles actually calmed, laughing when Deaton touched him somewhere that made him ticklish. And through time Stiles allowed Deaton to wash him with various flowers and clay to get rid of any dirt or bacteria.

"Now…Stiles your hair has bugs in it, we're gonna need to cut it off," Deaton said getting out a sharp obsidian blade from his pouch, removing it from its sheath. The boy stilled and Derek put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"It's okay Stiles, Deaton will be careful and your hair will grow out too," Derek reassured, waiting along with the emissary for the answer.

When Stiles nodded it only took a second for Deaton to pull Stiles's hair into a pony tail and slice most of his hair off. Stiles gasped, whimpering but not from pain but probably more from shock. Within minutes Deaton was carefully gliding the shiny blade against the short grain of Stiles's now shortened hair to clean up the edges and strays. The bugs were stuck in the infested hair, traveling downstream with the current. Derek looked back from the drifting locks to see Stiles in a much different light.

His hair shortened allowed for his face to be showed clearly. Eyes too big for his head, strong cheekbones which is probably more from food deprivation than anything else, ears that had an odd inverse curve to them.

"Is it okay?" Stiles asked nervously, his hands feeling his scalp.

Derek nodded with a smile, "you look fine Stiles. Much better now."

Stiles smiled, his hands moving against the grainy feeling on his head. Derek thanked Deaton who was gathering his things, saying it was interesting to work on someone knew. With that the man was heading back up the slope of the mountain and Derek knew it was time for them to leave. Pulling Stiles out of the water he opened his pouch he slung over himself before they left the den and pulled out a cloth.

"For you," he said handing it to Stiles who held it up with raised eyebrows.

"Like yours?"

Derek glanced down to his waist to where his own loincloth was and he nodded, "I figured you would like one too. You don't have to wear it if humans don't like wearing them."

Stiles shrugged and put his on, it used to be Cora's but she outgrew it but given Stiles's too skinny frame it seemed to fit him just fine. The younger boy lit up and thanked Derek before following him back up the hill, seeming to open up more and ask Derek about different things as they became relevant.

" _Derek what's this plant?_ "

" _Derek do birds sing or call?_ "

" _Derek how do squirrels climb so quick?_ "

He was happy to answer too, talking almost as much as Stiles until they reached the top of the hill to the den. It was to quiet and Stiles even noticed because he felt silent as well. Once they rounded the top he froze when he saw the pack in a semicircle, his parents in the center with his Grandmother preparing something in a few animal skulls. Everyone from the eldest to the youngest were in the circle, looking at him with blank yet calculating looks.

Stiles whined and hid behind him again like this morning.

"Derek, you've done great justice by saving your Grandfather and Cora during the Earth shakes. You've found us a new den to call home. Yet you've threatened our stability with a human…" His mother summarized, voice powerful and terrifyingly crisp.

He couldn't hear anymore, it was replaced with this terrifying ringing as he balked at the sight of what was about to happen. He assumed Stiles could feel his tenseness because he starting shaking harder and crying a little.

A punishment ceremony between one's Alpha and one who threatens the pack. The last time this happened he was only four sun cycles and he can still see Jennifer's head rolling away from her body.

Gods help him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not only has he lost a pack but his parents have lost a child. His sisters have lost a sibling. His pack has lost a pack mate. 
> 
> Losing pack was like loosing a limb and he's lost too many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: very short chapter, the next will be longer

Father and Uncle Peter made their way over, which made him instinctively pull Stiles behind him. The younger boy gladly curled into his back, hiding his tiny body the best he could. He didn't miss the pitying look Father gave him as the two older men grabbed him by his arms, dragging him to the circle in a quick fashion. Once he was let go before Mother she took him by the shoulders and pushed him down to his knees and he took the hint and settled himself in the lower position. 

Stiles's scream made him startle along with everyone else, he turned against his better judgement to see Peter hoisting Stiles into his arms in a rather harsh hold. The human looked paler than the white sands of the south waters, body shaking more than the earth did a few sunrises ago. In both horror and shock he watched as the boy was set beside him, forced into the same position as Derek was. His eyes widened as the strain on Stiles's legs caused the well woven stitches to stretch and move ominously and he was pretty sure the wound would start bleeding in a few moments. 

"Derek Hale, twelve sun cycles, and beta of the Hale pack," his mother's voice boomed before adding, "and _his_ human have endangered us. Not only our safety but our pack dynamics as well. Not once in our history as a wolf taken kindly to a human."

Grandmother stood up, holding the animal skull up to the sky and began muttering something. 

"When the ground shook Derek returned into our unstable den to save my father and my youngest daughter. Without him they would not be here today, his bravery is being taken into account. However that bravery was counteracted with foolishness, the foolishness to help a human. Yet in finding the human he lead us to a new den where we can find salvation from hunters," the Alpha continued on after that commending his skilled hunts and gathers while mentioning some of his downfalls and failures. 

The punishment ceremony was coming to an end; he could smell the shift happen in everybody but him, a mix of red, blue, and gold eyes staring him down. It made his skin prickle and every hair on his body stand on end. The knot in his stomach doubled when a claw hooked under his chin and tilted his head up so he was baring his neck to his Alpha. His eyes meet her's not missing how sad they looked. This was how he was going to die and it almost made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. His life wasn't supposed to end like this; his ending shouldn't be through a punishment ceremony, it should be many sun cycles from now through a great battle or of his elderly state passing on into the next life. Not once did he ever picture this being his last moment.

Swallowing the lump in his throat he closed his eyes, not wanting the last thing he saw was Mother's claws coming down to strike him. He was so sure even Stiles with his human abilities could smell his fear, the pack undoubtedly scenting it in the air. He took a deep calming breath only to smell something very coppery, like blood, and his ears picked up the swooshing sound of the incoming strike. Derek wound his eyes up tighter than before as his body became rigid to prep for the incoming impact...yet the feeling of claws sinking into his throat and tearing his windpipe out never came. What did come was a hand to his face; soft and open palmed, imprinting it's shape on his face with something tacky.

The copper stuff, it smelled like pack, like everyone. Their blood.

This wasn't a punishment ceremony at all, it was a banishment ceremony. He was being kicked out of the pack. 

Derek gasped, his eyes shooting open as the pack howled together. In that very moment he could feel the bonds within him fading away like tethers being cut one by one. It felt like every fiber of his being was being split up and he'd suddenly waste to nothingness. In this moment Derek felt himself wishing he'd rather be dead than go through this hell. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring the periphery of his vision which only gave clear sight to his mother and father who were bending down to his level. His mouth opened but nothing came out as extreme loss and loneliness seeped in to the very marrow of his bones.

"In seven sunrises you may come back and ask Alpha Hale for permission to join the Hale pack," his father said with a broken voice, "but as of right now you and your human are on Hale territory without permission."

Not only has he lost a pack but his parents have lost a child. His sisters have lost a sibling. His pack has lost a pack mate. 

Losing pack was like loosing a limb and he's lost too many.

His heart rattled his ribs to an alarming point as he stood on shaky legs, he felt this morning's food threaten to come up in acidic chunks. Numbly he reached and took Stiles's hand, pulling the boy up to his own feet to walk in the opposite direction of the den.  _Wrongwrongwrong_ his wolf screamed at him and Derek couldn't agree more. Stiles pulled on his grip but Derek was much stronger and kept walking. 

" _No_! Take him back!" Stiles screamed and Derek felt his eyebrows shoot to his hairline as he glanced back to see Stiles directing that line to Alpha Hale. 

"Stiles...we gotta go," Derek said, voice hoarse and weak as he met eyes with his sisters who looked absolutely ruined. 

"I'm sorry! Just don't kick him out, please take him back...I'm _sorry_!" Stiles demanded and Derek knew their time was running out. Now he was technically an Omega and being this close to a pack's den was dangerous. He let go of Stiles and picked him up so he was being carried because he was being too slow right now. The human let out a small cry, babbling into Derek's chest about how sorry he was. He almost opened his mouth to say " _it's okay_ " but it really wasn't. Parts of him blamed his mother for being such a...straightforward Alpha, some blamed his Grandmother's help, but most blamed himself. He found Stiles, he pushed to save Stiles, and was being punished for it. It didn't get anymore black and white than that. The salty tears Stiles was smearing on his chest only encouraged his own to fall. By the time he registered his own tears mixing with the blood caked on his face the den was long out of ear shot and unfamiliar woods surrounded them. 

The sky above was a deep black onyx, billions of stars and galaxies shining down on them from far above. The moon hung low in the sky with it's round face staring that them from it's constant moving position. The thick vine underbrush grabbed at his feet with every step, leaves and twigs beneath his weight crunching through the ominously silent forest. The silence was the worst part. A while back Stiles had stopped sputtering apologies and wheezing like he was about to pass out and Derek hasn't said anything since leaving his home. The silence echoed how he felt inside; his wolf a sitting duck in a blank void where no pack waited to comfort him. Instead he was living up to Peter and Jackson's expectations of him; a coward who was running with his tail between his legs. 

"'M c'old," Stiles muttered, face still nuzzled into Derek's chest. 

Glancing down he flashed his eyes to see Stiles fully; he'd been so caught up in his thoughts he'd totally missed this. How Stiles was shivering and his lips were slightly discolored. Humans were susceptible to lots of things and Stiles was injured on top of that. He hoisted Stiles with ease, holding him closer while focusing his energy to amplify his body heat. 

"Okay, I'll find a place to start a fire," Derek said as he picked up the pace to try and find something that resembled shelter. 

After a while he stumbled upon a rocky overhang with a small under area that went for a few feet until dropping off into a steep cliff. He walked under the overhang and set Stiles down and bent down on his toes to he was eye level. By doing this the human looked at him with watery brown eyes, biting his lower lip so hard Derek feared he'd break skin. Out of sheer loneliness he nuzzled his cheek against Stiles's before making his way out from the overhang to quickly gather supplies for the fire. Slowly he was realizing how hard this was going to be; caring for himself was one thing. He gets hurt he heals. He can stave off hunger for long periods of time. He can run from big predators. Stiles? He's freshly wounded and is probably hungry right now. And cold...so cold, Derek could feel the iciness still linger on his skin from their contact. 

He zoomed around the forest, picking up sticks, dry wood, some various underbrush to start the fire. 

When he walked back to the overhang he paused when he could hear Stiles crying. It was different from the other times though; he'd been terrified, scared, panicked. This time is just sounded so sad and tired and Derek felt like doing the same. Silently he walked back over, dropping the supplies and sat with a thump as he started putting everything together. The human didn't stop, just kept it to light sniffles and hiccups. 

"Did you have a family?" Derek asked as sparks started up, wondering if they could use this banishment as time to find them.

Stiles nodded through a small sob, "I-I lost them with the earth shook. I walked in the wrong direction for a few days...then the mountain lion happened." 

He was a bit surprised Stiles managed to keep himself alive all by himself for that long. "Oh. Sorry," Derek said before blowing on the fire which grew bigger and bigger until it was big enough to give the overhang warmth. He crawled back so he was sitting against the rocky wall beside Stiles, relishing the heat the crackled orange two feet away. He was just as cold as Stiles was, he just didn't feel it until now. The numbness in his toes faded quickly and his skin warmed up delightfully.

The two of them kept silent as they warmed, neither of them in the speaking mood. Slowly but surely his eyelids grew heavy and Stiles was barely hanging onto consciousness. With a heavy yawn he moved to lay beside the fire, pulling Stiles into his arms to keep him warm throughout the night. Within seconds he watched the boy's eyes slip shut and his breathing evened out with the sleep that washed over him. It was then he allowed himself to cry until he had nothing left, chest heavy with cries for his family and pack. He already missed Laura's complaining which was saying something. By the time the moon was at it's peak he finally felt sleep take hold of him, pulling him in bit by bit until he could barely comprehend the outside world.

Before he went under he could hear howling in the distance. 

Without the bonds of the pack he couldn't tell if it was them or if it was just real wolves. 

His eyes shut as he felt himself break. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL MISTAKES ARE MINE BC EDITING IS A REAL BITCH! >_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles was splotchy red all over, wheezing as he seized up, his amber eyes rolling back into his head before going limp all at once. The only indication that he was alive was the sluggish heartbeat that was barely there behind his ribs.
> 
> At the same time across the cave a baby's powerful wail echoed off the stone walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY SHORT CHAPTER, I WILL EDIT IT OVER THE WEEK!!!!!!!

" _Unng...buh_." 

Derek looked up and over to where Stiles had still been sleeping, tiny body curled in on itself and drool falling from his open mouth. Eyelids were fluttering between open and closed for a moment before finally settled on open and lugged himself up into a sitting position. Crust sat in the corner of the boy's sleep heavy eyes, shoulder sagged and not quite awake yet, a yawn signalling his brain wasn't quite awake yet either. Derek reached around to grab a giant leaf he'd used to hold maybe two hand fulls of berries and set it in front of Stiles to eat. 

"Eat, I don't know when we'll get food next, I'll hunt today," Derek said while turning back to the large stick in his hands, using his claws to whittle the tip into a sharp point.

He hadn't been able to sleep well; constant turning and waking up to expect the warmth of home to be there. It wasn't. The painful sea of nothingness still haunted him and would for the next six sun rises, and a wolf without a pack wasn't strong, safe, or very stable. Sure he had Stiles but he wasn't pack, Derek can't even remember a time where his pack or another mentioned a human in it. Even at the sun rotation gatherings when the cycle resets in winter and the four packs come together it was all wolves. It isn't a bad thing. He loved being around his own people, the comfortableness he had when not being judged or in harms way was nice. Now he was stuck with Stiles...which wasn't a bad thing but Derek already felt alone and on top of that self conscious because his claws were out. 

"Whatcha makin'?" Stiles asked, looking at him with a quirked head. 

"A weapon for you so you can defend yourself," Derek said while absentmindedly carving in his pack crest into the wood.

"Oh," Stiles said like he was in honest to Gods shock, "how do you know to make them?" 

Derek raised an eyebrow, "because we make weapons in case we can't use our powers." 

"How come you can't use your powers?" Stiles pushed. 

"Because sometimes hunters poison us or the moon is blocked by the sun," Derek answered while flicking his claw against the wood, the shaving floating down to join the pile. 

"Why do--?"

" _Stiles_! Just...eat your food," Derek snapped, a small growl rising in his throat and the human froze before shrinking in on himself and eating his berries one by one instead of a handful at a time. 

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face before finishing off the weapon quickly. It's not like he was trying to be mean or scare Stiles, he was just on edge and all those questions weren't really that important right now. They needed to find food, water, maybe find some supplies that were abandoned by others during the shakes. With one last look he set the spear beside Stiles, not missing how the kid flinched away violently. Derek frowned and put his claws away before speaking up again.

"I'm not leaving you here alone today, so you're gonna come with me while I hunt. You're leg is still freshly wounded so don't do anything stupid and rip your stitches...we don't have Deaton's magic to help you right now," Derek reminded Stiles who nodded blankly but didn't say any words. That was surprising since he mentioned magic, Derek assumed Stiles would assault him with millions of questions yet no words of curiosity were exchanged.

Standing up he stomped out the dead fire just in case before getting a good stretch through his body. It took a few more minutes for Stiles to finish off his berries and gather his thoughts before standing with Derek, spear in hand. Derek couldn't help but choke on the discomfort coming off Stiles in steady waves. Hesitantly bent and reached down to cup a hand over the non wounded side of the boy's leg, leeching his pain for now. The fact Stiles let out a sigh and seemed much less tense Derek considered it a win and an apology for snapping at him.

"Um, Derek? I've never...used this," Stiles said in a small voice, eyes trained on the ground by his feet. 

Derek nodded, holding his hand out for Stiles to hand it over. Once the cool wood was in his hands he explained the two handed grip Stiles should use, and demonstrated the striking motion. He didn't even begin to show Stiles the throw and using it with one hand, that wasn't a good idea right now. Maybe another time when they weren't banished or injured in any way. "Got it?" He asked, handing it back over.

"Yeah," Stiles nodded, doing it himself to try it out. 

"Keep your shoulders up, you'll lose momentum," Derek corrected before motioning for Stiles to follow him. 

Even as he left the den last night he stuck to the creek they had been in with Deaton, going upstream north with it so returning in seven sunrises would be easier. Their overhang camp was a little ways from the creek so they would have to walk towards it for a bit. Water was always a good place not only to get water obviously but many animals would linger there as well. Good hunting ground. Even though they were maybe five or six miles up stream the forest here was much different, the trees weren't as delicate. They were big fur trees, it's needles littered everywhere. Even the soil was much softer and the overly rich petrichor smell was ripe and sweet in his nostrils. A few times he had to carry Stiles when it was steep hills they needed to go down, but other than that the human was holding himself well. 

Overhead the sky was a deep blue, some clouds splattered here and there but it didn't stop the sun's natural rays so shine down to give them both the warmth they had missed overnight. Even with the fire and his own raised body temperature it had still been a cold one. Eventually the sounds of running water were crystal clear, just beyond the hedges a couple feet ahead. Pausing he put a hand out for Stiles to stop moving to take a listen. There was a heart beat across the stream and by scent he could tell it was a fawn. 

"I'm gonna shift," Derek whispered to Stiles, "you need to be very quiet."

Stiles nodded, holding the spear a little tighter and eyes getting narrower. 

Taking a deep breath Derek screwed his eyes shut; his gums grew taught as his canines grew to their sharpened points, his fingernails itches as claws replaced them, the bones within his face swiftly cracking into place, his irises growing heavy with their wolfish gold coloring. Peeking his eyes open he saw Stiles looking him over with a different look than he'd given the kids back in the pack yesterday. Fear wasn't prominent, in fact awe was flooding off Stiles steadily and Derek couldn't help but puff his chest out a little more. Motioning for Stiles to shush he turned on his heel and looked around to see the best way to get to the fawn. He decided to quietly scale a nearby tree, it's limbs spanning across the stream enough for him to just jump on the animal. His claws dug into the sappy bark, the gooey substance building up behind his claws uncomfortably. 

He made it to the limb of the tree he wanted, crawling across the branch over the rapids of the stream. 

The fawn was young and looked like it had enough meat on it for maybe three our four meals shared between a werewolf and a human. It's coat was different than anything he's ever seen, it's face and stomach fur was white while it's eyes were an icy blue. Tiny and frail and if he looked at it's beauty for much longer he might feel a little sorry for killing it. Scrabbling at the end of the tree limb he moved some leaves out of the way while getting in position to jump down and snap it's neck, bending his knees just right--

" _DEREK_! _NO_!" 

Two things happened when Stiles screamed at him. First, the fawn scurried away into the woods at the speed of light. Second, it startled him enough to have him slipping out of the tree and falling hard enough to knock the wind out of him but thankfully not break anything. Scrubbing the dirt off his face he glared across the water to Stiles who looked a little shaken as well. 

"Why did you do that?!" Derek sneered. 

"That was a baby deer! My parents always say you should kill the big adult ones so the babies have time to live," Stiles defended, face stony and pinched. 

"Yeah? Well your parents aren't here are they?" He huffed, using exposed rocks to get back to the other side of the river.

The human boy looked at him like Derek had hit him, eyes getting all watery before hardening again, "yeah?...Well your parents kicked you out of their pack!"

Derek growled at Stiles, hating himself for enjoying the scared reaction coming from the boy. They were both cold, hungry, and a little out of it right now therefore being nasty to each other was bound to happen. However they were both crossing lines right now that were more or less painful ones. Muscles tense and shoulders hunched he walked into the stream, flashing his eyes to spot some sort of fish to catch as a back up to the fawn they lost. Stiles ended up sitting at the base of the tree not even attempting to help out. Whatever. Bending down he managed to sink his claws into two decent sized fish, ripping their heads off and taking out their guts before exiting the stream. He didn't even talk when he handed Stiles the fish, and managed to ignore the sound of distress it caused while finding two massive leaves to put each fish into, using nearby vines to tie it up and give each package a strap to they could carry it easily. 

The rest of the day was spent walking around to collect things like more berries for Stiles, a few more small animals, stopping every now and then to suck the pain from Stiles' leg. 

By the time they got back to camp they hadn't spoken a word and by the time they finished cooking and eating their fish words between them seemed like a distant memory. 

* * *

The sunlight poured into the overhang, forcing Derek to look the other way when his eyes opened.

It was the fifth sunrise out of seven and he's never felt more ready to get home. He misses the smell of Emma's cooking, Deaton's weird collection of medical plants and the scents it offered, even his sisters and Jackson for that matter. He missed his own bed furs and fire. While this overhang might be a nice place it wasn't home and it wasn't where the pack was. A part of him wonders if they missed him as much as he missed them, he wondered if his mother and father mourned for him and felt the same heartbreak he felt. Somewhere deep down he wanted them to feel bad but he also knew his parents couldn't let that show. Being an Alpha and an Alpha's Second meant pack over emotions first. Blatantly ignoring the ache in his chest he stood up, rubbing the crust out of his eyes while looking down to Stiles.

Correction, to where Stiles _should've_ been.

The boy wasn't here, the spot where he had chosen to sleep already had his scent fading slowly. Derek felt panic rise in his chest as he shifted with ease, body morphing into it's more wolf-like state as his legs started propelling him through the unfamiliar wilderness. His nose led him blindly through a mess of underbrush and trees as he followed the scent belonging to Stiles. At this point he didn't know which was worse. 

The fact he could pick out Stiles' scent so easily or the fact his scent was muted and barely there. 

Rounding a tree he skidded to a halt, breathing in deep only to pick out the alarming smell of blood. His head whipped to the left to see a deep red smear against the bark of the tree. It only took a single breath to catch Stiles' scent wafting from the mark, and upon touching it the blood seemed wet but beginning to tack up. It was then when his wolf fully shifted into its beta form, his senses sharpening as he trailed the scent. All too soon he came to a small hill to a small clearing, and by small hill it was more like a fifty foot near vertical mudslide tangled with thick roots. At the bottom was Stiles, holding his spear out to a familiar animal. 

It was the cave lion, the one that had hurt Stiles in the first place. 

His heart thundered against his ribs and anger tore through him as he let out a roar, taking a leap down the hill. Sure he tumbled a little but he had it under control, and thankfully his roar got the lion's attention away from Stiles. His foot snagged on a root at the very bottom, sending him flipping through the air until he landed with a thunk. It didn't phase him, and he managed to get up just in time to dodge the lion. Derek snarled at it, backing up until he was defensively in front of Stiles. The cave lion's face was mangled from his claws from the last time the went at it. Not only that but it was slightly limping from where he'd hit the rock. The lion stood it's ground this time. 

"Derek..." Stiles muttered and suddenly the spear was given to him. 

Without hesitation Derek took aim and threw it with everything he had, and while he was a beginner with weapons like this it managed to sink into the meat of the lion's shoulder. It let out a whimpering howl of pain, it's paws trying to get the weapon out of it's shoulder. Derek pounced, his own claws getting where he could until there was a title wave of blood pouring on him. Spitting the warm liquid out of his mouth he looked up to see where his claws had sliced at the lion's neck. There was a huff from the mostly dead animal before it collapsed. Breathing hard Derek stood up, body aching and his skin stained brown and red. Even if he didn't feel so well it didn't mean he couldn't focus on Stiles. 

Rushing back to the boy's side he took a good look at the injury on his leg. It was barely stitched together now, blood and pus leaking from it. Derek set his hand near the wound and sucked out the pain before hoisting Stiles into his arms. 

"The lion...food..." 

Derek shook his head, "we're going back home. You need Deaton and it's been long enough." 

Stiles whimpered, burying his face into Derek's shoulder. He couldn't help but accept the child's presence, and if anything it made him hold Stiles closer. Since they were at the bottom of the large valley they needed to take the long way around it and get back to the river which lead home. Time wasn't on their side. Other than the occasional pained sound from Stiles, Derek noticing a slight fever coming from him, and the chirping of birds it was pretty uneventful. As it turns out the valley was a lot bigger than it seemed at first, and it wasn't until the sun was at it's peak did they make it back to the river. There was no use in going back to their overhang, what Derek had left was probably picked off at this point, smaller wood creatures taking the small stockpile they had going. 

"Can I rinse us off in the river?" Derek asked, stopping by the river bank. 

Stiles flinched, gnawing on his lip, "'s gonna hurt my l-leg."

"I'll keep it out of the water, you just plug your nose and I'll dunk you under...keeping your hurt leg out. Promise," Derek said, not really giving him a say before walking in. Plus this was a good time to do it, any later and the sun's warmth would be gone and Stiles would freeze up. The water was lukewarm at best but not so cold to make it uncomfortable. The younger boy tensed when the water touched his underside and Derek warned him before adjusting his grip. Holding Stiles' leg up Derek prompted him to plug his nose. Once Stiles took a deep breath Derek plunged him in, only holding him and scrubbing him for a second before bringing him back up. He made quick work to get Stiles on a nearby beached log to warm in the sun before taking a plunge himself, scrubbing his skin clean. 

Or as clean as he could in thirty seconds. 

Exiting the river he shook himself off, getting as many water droplets off his skin before hoisting Stiles back into his arms and walking again. He was sure to keep in as many sunny areas as possible on the trek back to the cave. 

"Why did you leave?" Derek asked softly once they were about halfway there.

Stiles sniffled, looking down at his hands, "I stopped you from killing the baby deer....I got you kicked out of your pack....m'sorry."

Oh. Derek couldn't help but nuzzle into Stiles' short cropped hair, holding him as tight as possible without hurting his leg even more. It was such a stupid reason to leave but Derek understood and that was enough. Stiles seemed to take that to heart too and hug himself into Derek's chest, eyes fluttering shut with complete trust. Something inside warmed at the gesture, his wolf rolling in the feeling. It helped him move a little quicker back home. The trees passed in a blur and he was only set on the destination and getting Stiles there in one piece. He only focused back in when familiar terrain kicked in, and smells of food, and sounds of people were prominent. Derek's heart kicked into overdrive, nearly running across the clearing his pack had stumbled upon in the first place. Stiles chose then to wake up, bleary eyed and a little disoriented.

"Cave?" 

"Yeah, cave," Derek nodded, scaling the hill to get back home. 

He didn't even make it to the peak before Uncle Peter, his father, and a few other older members blocked him. Fear trickled in the back of his mind; he was technically an omega encroaching on their territory, but this was important. 

"I know...I'm not, uh, pack," it nearly killed him to say it out loud, "but Stiles, the cave lion came back for him. Somehow found him and he's not okay. I don't know Deaton and Grandma's medicine work. Please help us." 

Boyd softened a bit, eyes leaving their golden state in sympathy. Peter snarled at him which only made Stiles flail to get away and by doing so only made the wound spurt more blood. His father stood there frozen, and Derek could smell the nerves wafting from him. However, by some miracle his father growled at his brother-in-law to stop snarling before stepping back to let Derek through. Tears almost wanted to fall as he rushed forward to get into the cave. The smell of the pack and the sounds of their hearts was more than enough to make any physical ache he had from the past days instantly vanish. Jackson, Erica, and Tracy were looking at him in shock from the cave's mouth while his sisters attempted to rush forward but were stopped by Keiran. Inside the cave came screaming and snarling, followed by the careful guiding words of his mother and Deaton. 

Emma was having her baby, and that only meant his grandmother and Deaton would be occupied for a while.

"I dun feel good," Stiles babbled, body breaking out into a heated shiver. 

"I know," Derek frowned while bypassing Emma and Kieran's fire to his own. 

All of his belongings were in the corner and the fire was stoked out, even the embers were long gone. It was cold and smelled dull. It was hard to ignore the fact it was like he was dead to the pack for five days, but he pushed past it to get Stiles laying down on a bed fur. Stiles gasped, holding his leg as it was moved around. Apologizing Derek ordered him to stay still while he set some things up. First up was getting a thin piece of leather and tying it around the top of Stiles's leg wound to keep it from bleeding anymore. He would've done it in the forest but it lacked malleable vines. Next was getting the fire started up and a pot of water heating up over it for tea he knew Deaton or his grandmother would need. Lastly he got a woven cloth damp with cool water and put two of them on Stiles, on of his forehead and one over his wound. 

"Ow!" Stiles yelped.

Derek linked his finger's with Stiles', leeching as much as he could but he's even admit there was only so much he could take before it didn't do much.

"What happened?" 

At the opening of his fire was his father who seeme a little worse for wear, his usually near facial hair running ragged and his eyes lined with dark rims. 

"We got in a fight," Derek muttered, "I woke up this morning and he left because of the fight. He fell down a mudslide and the cave lion picked up on the scent of blood and found him. I killed it...and I know I'm not supposed to be--"

"You did the right thing coming back Son," his father said giving a pat to Derek's back. 

The moment between him and his father was short lived as Stiles seized up beside them. It was a horrific sight; Stiles was splotchy red all over, wheezing as he seized up, his amber eyes rolling back into his head before going limp all at once. The only indication that he was alive was the sluggish heartbeat that was barely there behind his ribs.

At the same time across the cave a baby's powerful wail echoed off the stone walls.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Derek couldn't breathe, it was like his lungs would not inflate for anything. 

...and if Stiles' didn't then it made sense he shouldn't. 

He can't remember how long he'd been sitting at the mouth of the cave, back turned to the warmth and chaos inside. Long enough that he's cold but short enough that he doesn't feel awkward about it. He just is. Inside he can hear Emma and Kieran's soft coos for their first child. He can hear the betas chatting around the central fire. He can hear Deaton and Grandma muttering various things as they work on Stiles. He can barely hear the human's heart, but it's there thankfully, still beating. He can also hear footsteps approaching; and more than that, he can feel that it's his mother. Derek tensed, not knowing if he should stand or sit. Speak or be silent. Be her son or be an omega. 

He sat there, eyes casted down to his hands as she stopped to his left, sitting down a moment later. 

For whatever reason he found the strength to look up and face her. His mother was beautiful; dark hair always woven into two large braids, tanned skin dotted with freckles, smile soft and eyes understanding. When her arm wrapped around his shoulders Derek pretty much curled up into her lap. Emotion ran through him at breakneck speeds, so fast it scared him a little. With shaking shoulders and aching vocal cords he let himself be vulnerable no matter what the outcome. He thanked the gods above when she held him close, rocking back and forth like he remembers from so many fond childhood memories. One by one he felt bonds of the pack reconnect, a new one forming as well which must be from the baby, but regardless the pack was with him once more. He never wanted to leave it again. Mother rubbed her cheek against his with a soft growling purr, showing love and affection through the wordless exchange.

"I didn't want to banish you Derek," she said. 

He sat back and wiped at his face, blinking at her 

She smiled tightly, eyes full of sorrow, "I had to follow law, but if it were up to me I would've kept you here. Safe with us. I howled for you every single night, hoping you'd come back to me on the seventh day." 

"I'm early," Derek corrected her. 

"I'm relieved," she said, cupping his face while kissing his forehead, "I had no idea if you were alive or dead. A Derek sized hole was in my heart, and...it's obvious you are fond of Stiles. Yes?" 

That was the first time he's heard her call Stiles by his actual name other than his species. It made his chest feel a bit warmer, he felt a bit more secure about coming back with him.

Nodding he said, "yeah."

"If you trust him, then I can learn to. Please prove to me that I'm not making a mistake, I can't bare to think about what will happen if we're wrong," she said, holding him tight for a while longer before standing up.

Derek cleared his throat, standing as well, unsure of his own footing. He wanted more than anything for things to work out; to have his pack and to have Stiles with them. It's not like he had anywhere to go, his parents were dead and he can't live on his own. That much was clear. Mother nodded her head, walking back into the cave towards Emma and Keiran's fire, leaving him standing there unsure of what to do now. A part of him wanted to stay; but the bigger part of him was already shoving him back to his own fire, eyes watching as Stiles was just now being bandaged up with dried leaves, two pieces of flat woods wrapped in reeds within the leaves to hold his leg in place to heal. Grandmother looked up, nodding at him as if saying this is all they can do. 

Deaton, thankfully spoke, "he lost a lot of blood. I don't know if he will make it overnight." 

That felt like ice water being dumped over him. 

"If he makes it will be weeks before he can walk again, I don't think he'll even feel that part of his leg anymore with all the muscle and nerve damage done. He'll have massive scarring," Deaton continued, "keep a cool cloth on his forehead, if he wakes up force him to drink this tea your grandmother made. It will combat the fever he has and protect against any other damage that may occur from that." 

Derek nodded sharply, replacing where they were the second they got up and moved to leave them alone. 

Stiles looked terrible. His body was pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His leg was tinted red with all the blood that came from the wound. Everything that had been bright and lifelike was now dull and sterile, no sign of Stiles was left. Derek stood up then, reasoning that if he's already given up then Stiles probably has too. He went to his packaged up things, taking it all out to start again. He grabbed the woven mats, layering them both so it was extra soft, using the heaviest fur from their annual mammoth hunt to lay across it so it was soft and warm. Then oh-so carefully he lifted Stiles up, making sure his leg was not jostled, setting him down on the bed. He then used the lightest fur to cover him to mid chest, keeping the one wounded leg exposed so it could air out. 

After that he got to work setting his fire back up, from his carved bowls for water and food to the knick knacks he's collected over the cycles. By the time everything was back in its place most of the pack was asleep or settling for the quiet hours. he was not. He went outside, scanning the area for good trees, finding a thick sturdy branch and once he did he snapped it off with ease. Next he made his way down to the stream to collect reeds and some red clay, returning to the cave a while later. The rest of the night was for molding small beads, stripping the reeds and drying them by the fire with a diluted coating of red mud for dying them, and using his claws to carve and etch patterns into the debarked wood. He hadn't realized the sun was up until he heard a throat clear by the start of his fire. 

"Do you want to take a break? Come join us for breakfast?" Father asked, a hand scratching as his facial hair. 

Derek nervously looked to Stiles, hesitating with his answer. 

"We'll hear if anything changes with him. Please, son, come eat with us."

With the insistence Derek set down the staff and stood up, making sure everything was fine before following his father towards the south part of the cave. The pack was sitting in a circle, eating their fill for the morning. Cooling his nerves he sat at his usual place near his sisters and friends, grabbing his bowl and almost crying at the sight. He's been living off nuts and berries with the occasional fish. Seeing venison stew with taro root mash within it. He easily ate his bowl with gusto, not stopping for conversation once as he ate...until he was spoken to. 

"What was it like?" Erica asked. 

Derek looked up, mouth full of food, so he grumbled a confused noise as he swallowed. 

"Out there as an omega?" Laura elaborated. 

"Hard. I heard howls the first night, I didn't know if they were yours or something else," Derek told her. 

Jackson snorted, "duh. You weren't pack." 

"Jackson, shut up for once. Yeah?" Boyd growled and got the blonde to be quiet before motioning for Derek to keep going. 

"Other than the mountain lion, nothing really happened, just hunting and gathering. Sleeping. Trying to stay warm," Derek said those listening, eyes avoiding theirs. 

"How was he? Try to kill you?" Cora asked.

Derek tensed, glancing at her with heavy set brows, "no Cora. Stiles did not try to kill me. He actually stopped me from killing a fawn." 

"Really?" Erica asked. 

"Yeah," he nodded, "he said his parents taught him to harm the older animals. Let the younger ones have a chance to live." 

"I bet he does that with werewolves too. Goes for the older betas and alphas--" Jackson huffed but Boyd punched him hard enough to shut him up.

It didn't last long, the two got into a physical fight, spilling their food and not stopping until their their parents rushed in to separate them. Derek rolled his eyes at his uncle, seeming to me a little proud of what Jackson was implying. It didn't settle well and Derek finished the last few bites of his food before getting up from the meal, returning to the fire. Stiles still hadn't moved much, but hope flooded him at the soft snores that were now pouring from his mouth. He moved and sat by the bed, taking the staff back in hand, claws slipping out as he continued his work, passing time before Stiles woke up.

He had to wake up.

* * *

 

It took another few hours, but Derek finally heard a small whimper from beside him. 

Stiles' eyes were flickering open lazily, his mouth smacking together dryly, and it was clear that he was in pain. Derek put a hand on his hip, focusing on it before draining as much as he could. The human seemed to relax from it, finally awake enough to stay that way. When he tried to speak he was nothing but hoarse and broken. Derek calmed him, letting him clear with a sip or two of water before making him drink at least half a drinking bowl of tea. While Stiles did that he changed the cloth on his forehead so it was colder. 

"We're back, the pack took me back," Derek said to Stiles, "Deaton and Grandma redid your leg, you won't be able to walk for a while." 

Stiles seemed a bit scared at that, frowning as he finished the tea and handed it back to Derek. 

"Whachu doing?" Stiles asked softly, weakly pointing to the stick in Derek's hand. 

"Oh," he said, suddenly nervous and unsure, "it's uh...I was going to make you another spear, but since you'll have trouble walking...it's a walking stick. To help you." 

"Oh." 

Derek frowned when that was all he got in return, but the salty smell of tears brought him back to Stiles who looked taken with the project. 

"For me?" Stiles asked. 

"Well yeah. Who else has an injured leg?" 

"But--I got you banished--I ran--"

Derek shook his head, "don't worry about it Stiles. You'll need one anyways and it's keeping me busy while you rest." 

Stiles nodded, biting at his lips as he let out a yawn and a shiver, his hands struggling to pull up the fur. Derek readjusted it for him, tucking him in tight. 

"Rest Stiles," Derek said, "I'll get you something to eat next time you wake up." 

The boy nodded but his eyes were pretty much shut within the next few seconds, slipping back into sleep. 

In the end the staff was intricately carved, the bottom end shaped like a deer's hoof, the top down to mid-staff was wrapped with red dyed reed, a small string of beads dangling from it for decoration. Derek felt proud, like he's finally done something worthwhile and helpful. Grandmother approached his fire and smiled at him, arms crossed as she eyed the walking stick.

"That is sweet of you," she said, "you have a big heart Derek, don't let anyone discourage you for it."

With that she walked off and Derek looked at the stick, hoping he's done the right thing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 11 pm, it was the last day of finals for the school year, I'm not editing this. Sorry.


End file.
